


Rosy Future

by cellard00rs



Series: CSAC series [10]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25785382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellard00rs/pseuds/cellard00rs
Summary: Preston and Ford think about the future.
Relationships: Preston Northwest/Ford Pines, Preston Northwest/Ford Pines/Stan Pines
Series: CSAC series [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/442447
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Rosy Future

Preston is sitting legs crossed on his bed, fiddling with his laptop when he hears a tentative knock on his door. His head shoots up from the screen and he clears his throat, “Come in.”

Ford pops in, “Hey.”

“Fordsy!” Preston closes the laptop and shoves it to one side, “How was your day?”

“Good, good. Work. Bit of shopping,” Ford fiddles with his messenger bag, all six fingers of his right hand tapping along the shoulder strap nervously. Preston frowns, unsure why Ford is so apprehensive, until he sucks in a loud breath and steps forward, “Actually, um, I have something for you.”

Preston scoots over and pats the empty space near him. Ford flops down and opens his bag, drawing out a book before pushing it down to the carpet. He offers the book to Preston, who reads the title aloud, “‘Encyclopedia of Roses’?”

Ford colors even as he shrugs, “Yeah, I…I saw it today in a bookstore. It was in a discount bin, so I don’t know how good it actually is, but…”

Preston flips through the thick tome, smiling softly, “It’s-it’s wonderful. Thank you, Ford.”

This gets a small head bob and while Preston scans the bright, colorful pages he looks up to see Ford is…watching him. _Really_ watching. His face is very attentive and Preston swallows, brow furrowing, “Is…is something wrong?”

“What?” he gets in a far too quick squeak, “No! Why?”

“You just…you seem,” Preston tries to think of a proper descriptor, finally settling on; “peculiar.”

The sound that escapes Ford is so weighty, his entire body seems to quail under it. Eventually he just collapses back on the bed, eyes gluing to the ceiling, “It’s just-! I’m…it’s…y’know, been a week since…since…”

“Since?”

Ford gestures between Preston and himself and Preston’s cheeks feel as if they’ve caught flame, “Oh! Y-you mean since you and I…and-and Stanley…”

Ford shakes his head to himself, “Yeah, I mean. I’m glad. Honestly. I’m…I’m happy about it and everything, but it’s…it just seems…surreal. I mean, I never thought I’d date _anybody_ , much less my _brother_ and then much, much less my brother AND someone else.”

“I…I see,” Preston puts the book to one side and finds himself drawing his knees up close to his chest, fingers idly picking at some imaginary spot on his perfectly pressed khakis, “Do you not want to-?”

He can very nearly _hear_ Ford roll his eyes, “No, Preston. I want to be with you. It’s just, I was in the store today and I saw that book and I got all excited about buying it for you and it just…it got me to thinking. About this. All of this.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s not BAD,” Ford huffs, hands ducking up beneath his glasses to push them up so he can press his eyelids, “It’s unexpected is all. I mean, I’ve been thinking about the future more these past couple of weeks than I ever have and I guess, I mean, I had vague ideas, y’know? Get my PhD super quick, dive headfirst into cutting edge paranormal research, make some groundbreaking inventions and I still want to do those things, but now I’m…I’m also, ah…committed.”

He removes his hands, adjusts his glasses and rolls to one side to look at Preston better. He gives him a sheepish little grin as he reaches up and cups his cheek, “To you. To Stan. And it’s…it’s nice, but it’s also…”

He lowers his hand and rolls back to his earlier position, eyes returning to the ceiling, “I never thought this would happen. I never envisioned it like the other things and I guess…I’m worried I’ll screw it up. I almost did with Stan. He left and now you…”

“Whoa, whoa now,” Preston makes sure to adjust himself until he’s practically rolled on top of Ford, looking down into his eyes, “I won’t leave you.”

Ford searches his face and Preston feels as if someone’s put a humid palm against the back of his neck, the rush of heat beneath the collar of his polo shirt vivid and pressing. Ford smirks, “Funny. You’re normally the one who’s jittery and now here I am…”

“We’re all apprehensive, Fordsy,” Preston murmurs, mentally refusing to repeat the word ‘jittery’, “Even your brother. All of us have questions about this. It’s…it’s new to all of us. You talk about how you didn’t anticipate dating anyone – look at me! I _did_ picture a future relationship, and I can assure you, it was _not_ with a pair of twins. Much less _male_ twins! I pictured a woman, a nice one I could get along with…one that would maybe…maybe even provoke feelings in me I had heretofore not felt for a female, but instead, here I am…doing what I _should_ be doing instead of what I _thought_ I’d be doing.”

“ _What_ you should be doing? Or _who_ you should be doing?” is the teasing response he gets and now it’s Preston’s turn to roll his eyes, “It’s comments like that, that remind me that you are, as a matter of fact, related to Stanley.”

“Our matching faces didn’t tip you off?”

“Your faces are quite similar, but,” Preston licks his lips, prickling warmth rising beneath his skin as he shifts closer, “There…there are differences…”

“Such as?”

“Well, this, of course,” one of Preston’s hands lowers, his thumb skating over the deep indent on Ford’s chin, “And these,” he toys with the glasses, pushing them up, “And, um…”

He hovers closer, clearly wanting to kiss him and Ford is sure he’s a matching shade of pink as his eyes search Preston’s, “You can…if you want.”

“...can?”

“Kiss me,” Ford breathes, his eyes going to Preston’s lips, “You don’t have to ask permission.”

“I…still feel as if I should.”

“Would you ask Stan for permission to kiss him?”

“Ha. No. He’d laugh in my face,” Preston returns dryly, even as his other hand starts toying with the stray strands of brown hair above Ford’s forehead, “You, on the other hand…”

“I won’t laugh.”

“I…I know,” Preston gulps and it’s terribly audible, “It’s merely…”

“What?”

Preston closes his eyes and breathes in, “I’ve told you. I…unlike you, I’ve pictured this before.”

“Yeah; with a woman.”

“Not…not just with a woman,” Preston’s eyes are still closed and his face, his expression, is one of shame, “I…envisioned you. Like this. Before. Long ago. Back…back when you and Stan were separated.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, just continues his hushed confession, “I thought of it often. I told myself I didn’t. I even _convinced_ myself I didn’t. But…I did. Late in the dark recesses of the night, I’d lie in my bed and I’d think…I’d imagine…”

“Really?” Ford gasps and Preston finally does open his eyes, gray irises nearly silver in their intensity, “You know of my…my previous infatuation with you.”

“Previous?”

“I would think this beyond infatuation now. We…we’re in a-a relationship. One that contains Stanley and I don’t know if-?”

“You _can_ kiss me,” Ford reassures him, his hands rising up to caress Preston’s back, to thread through his thick dark hair, “Stanley won’t mind. I told you, you don’t nee- _mmf_!”

The words are cut off as Preston’s mouth finally descends on his. Their lips meet, at first wet and awkward. Preston clearly rushed in the moment he felt the light was green enough, making things a bit off center, but then he shifts, he moves, and as their bodies align better, so do their mouths. Preston’s tongue skates across Ford’s lips - shy, but persistent and Ford moans, allowing him access, his own tongue rising up to meet his. Preston rolls over him more fully, blanketing him and Ford hums, pleased at the weight, at the feel of the other boy on top of him. Preston hands are brushing along Ford’s face tenderly, long fingers tracing gently, making Ford shiver and he removes his glasses fully. 

He carefully sets them aside, near the book Ford purchased him and the thought of the book, the thought of how Ford was considerate, makes his heart skitter about in his chest. They kiss one another sweetly, passionately, long legs tangled and the tips of Preston’s ears start to burn as he realizes (very, very belatedly) that he’s making out with someone. 

No, not just someone. 

_Ford_. 

He’s made out before, but those make outs had been more of a chore. They’d been with countless girls who had meant nothing to him. And then there’d been Stanley and Stanley _did_ mean a great deal to him and making out with Stanley had been fantastic, but he honestly never, ever thought he’d make out with _Stanford_.

Stanford who whimpers beneath him, all twelve fingers digging into his back, and it’s hard to _breathe_ , hard to think, and Preston wants _more_. He wants more, but the idea of him and Ford doing so is…well, frankly it’s _terrifying_. It means so much and with Stanley present, it had somehow been _easier_. Stan was such a comfort and god, Preston has to make sure Stan never, ever knows that.

He’ll get teased relentlessly and forever.

But Stanley IS comforting. And Stan doesn’t make him as nervous, doesn’t make him question himself as much as Ford does, because Preston always feels like he doesn’t know what Ford is thinking and yes, he doesn’t really know what Stan is thinking either, but somehow…

Ford pulls his lips away and they’re sharing breath, foreheads touching as he whispers, “What is it?”

His answer is a vague ‘mm?’ and Ford sighs, “We were sort of, ah, going somewhere and then you stiffened up.”

“D-did I?”

Ford nods and Preston sighs, head dipping down. Ford’s shirt has shifted down, just enough to bare some of his collarbone and Preston finds himself pressing a little, damp kiss to it, “I guess your thinking has got _me_ thinking. Not so much about the future as about, ah…well, I suppose it _is_ still the future but-but…it’s the…the idea of us…alone…”

The words coming out haltingly, as if being dragged from his very center, and Ford’s eyes widen, “A-alone as in-? Without Stan?”

“Not without Stan,” Preston insists, “I would never wish to be without your brother! I care for him a great deal, but I meant, more, ah…I mean…you and I are alone _now_ and…”

A relieved bubble of laughter leaves Ford, “ _Oh_! You mean you and I making out or having sex without Stan present!”

“I…yes?” Preston practically wheezes the words as if they’re being squeezed out of him, “I mean, are we even allowed to-?”

“We don’t need permission to kiss one another or to, ah,” Ford flushes and chews on his inner right cheek, “I mean, like you said...this is new to all of us. We’re…we’re sort of making this up as we go, but…I-I know I wouldn’t mind if you and Stan kissed or…or did _that_ and I wasn’t there.”

“Oh?”

Ford nods heartily, “I mean, sometimes I think it’ll be all three of us and sometimes I think we’ll break off into pairs, but in the end, it’ll just be the three of us again, so…it’s…it’s good. Right?”

The question is asked and they both seem to be contemplating it when Stanley barges in. He has a banana in one hand and is (somehow) managing to chew it noisily, “Hey, nerds.”

Preston practically leaps off Ford and Stan chuckles, “Christ, I’m not your father, Northwest! You can climb back on top of Sixer if you want. Seems like you was having a good time up there ‘till I came in.”

“S-Stanley, we…we weren’t sure, if-if-“ Ford starts stuttering and Stan sits down on one end of the bed, eyes zeroing in on his twin, “You love me?”

“I-what? Of course, I do!”

Stan shrugs and gets up, “Good enough for me.”

“Good enough for-?” Preston starts and Stan takes another bite of his banana, “Yeah, I trust Sixer. I trust you. I know you two aren’t going to screw me over if - wait, scratch that - _when_ you two screw each other," his head toilts thoughtfully to one side and he gives a very evil smirk, "Definitely say it’s more a ‘when’ from where I’m standing,” He points to Ford. Specifically to the spot between Ford’s legs and Ford sits up, hands going to cover his obvious erection, jeans be damned. Preston, having barely caught sight of it, feels as if he can _see_ the red his face is becoming. He ducks his head and Stan points a finger to him, same spot, “You got one too.”

“Would you just-!” Preston nearly roars and Stan’s chuckling continuously now, “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get going. And not to like, rush you guys or nothing, but I’d like to have dinner sometime this century. So, if you two could wrap up your tonsil hockey sooner rather than…”

“Get out!” Preston fumes, grabbing the closest pillow and chucking it at him. Stan just dodges it, blowing him a kiss, “Save some for me for later, my prince.”

Stan shuts the door behind him and Preston and Ford share a look and while they’re not twins, their thoughts are identical. Here they are – worried about their futures when, honestly? They should be more worried about Stanley _in_ their futures. They share a grin, as if reading one another’s minds.

Honestly…he’ll probably be the death of them both.

**Author's Note:**

> Written long ago, unlocking and posting fics from my old, blocked tumblr (cellard00rs). If you want to find me on my NEW tumblr, feel free to visit!: [cellard0ors](https://cellard0ors.tumblr.com/)


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